


Prompts and Practice

by ShaBMOVerse



Category: Original Work, ShaBMOVerse
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28374642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaBMOVerse/pseuds/ShaBMOVerse
Summary: Collection of prompts, oneshots, and flashfics. Most for practice, some for worldbuilding, contextualising something, or just a wild AU idea.Tags and table of contents on first chapter.





	1. Table of Contents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you can skip to what you like/want to read :)
> 
> Format:  
> Chapter: [Name] // Canon? // Wordcount // Author // Date written  
> Characters: [List]  
> Tags: [Also counts as a summary]
> 
> All works are rated T unless specified otherwise.

**Chapter 2:** Suffer // Not canon // 772 words // Author: Shadow // 28th Dec 2020  
**Characters:** Finnegan Wellington, Villain!Vega (Mei Vega)  
**Taggies:** fight scene practice?, mei actually manages to beat someone up, beating the "innocent"  
  
☆  
  
**Chapter 3** : RobbieXReader // VERY NOT CANON // 433 words //Author: Shadow // 12th Jan 2021  
**Characters:** Robert Whytaker, yourself :)  
**Tags:** Soft, fluff?, extremely cheesy, very rough but still alright  
  
☆

 **Chapter 4:** "Welcome to Pink Bomb!" // Partially canon // 500 words// Author: Shadow // 5th Jan 2021  
**Characters:** Deidre Dragon, Ikhande Iregi, Cleopatra "Medusa" Whytaker  
**Tags:** Maid cafes and catboys, odd experimental stuff?, Canon because Deidre did work at a maid cafe, but Ikhande and Medusa don't belong there, absolutely not finished, i couldnt find where to go next, Ikhande and Medusa own a tattoo shop next to the maid cafe, awkward use of safewords  
  
☆  
  
**Chapter 5:** Bloodbath // Canon // 4124 words // Author: Shadow // 1st Jul 2020  
**Characters:** Chief Um'tan, Bruce Merowitz, Anuk  
**Tags:** Heavy blood imagery, Anuk is literally the sassiest Caithyan God, Minor mentions of other characters, Travelling through time?, Bruce gets #Blessed

☆

 **Chapter 6:** Seeing Red // Canon // 2710 Wordcount // Author: BMO // 19th Jan 2021  
**Characters:** Robert Whytaker, Genevieve Helvetius, Josephine Bolts, Penny Wellington, Eloise Greys  
**Tags:** Robert has been acting a bit sketchy in the Whytaker household and rather avoidant. Curious as to what her lover might be up to, Genevieve gathers Josephine and Penny to spy on Robert in hopes of figuring out what he is up to.

☆

 **Chapter 7:** Flames // Not canon // 516 words // Author: Shadow // 30th Jan 2021  
**Characters:** Nakai (POV), Deiairi  
**Tags:** Sort of a vent, first person experimentation, very poetry-like?, raw piece (basically unedited)


	2. Suffer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Go on, finish it."

There was nothing that could rid Mei off of the ecstasy she was riding on. Battling head to head with one of her old mentors - the head of Platinum Federation - there was nothing better. Her borderline manic laughter echoed as the man threw chem spheres around that she deflected with ease.

  
  
Sphere after sphere that exploded everywhere else  _ apart _ from where the Hero wanted them. Any efforts began to be futile.

“Tired of me yet, Finnegan!?” The villain challenged him, “I don’t even have to use my Virtue against your toothpick of a body!”

And the man  _ was _ tired. It wasn’t apparent, but you could pick it up. From the sloppy, aimless, unpredicted throws, to the lack of movement the man exhibited as he tried to make his actions as erratic as possible.

  
  
A moment of inattention, and the woman had finally made Finn’s body take to the sky, his footing long gone. WIth a swift jab, she grabbed the man by the neck and slammed him to the ground, crumbling the already shattered asphalt beneath.

“Go on,” Finn spat, his breathing heavy and his body uncomfortable against the ground, debris falling from the sky. Plumes of smoke were wafted into the air, with consistent explosions coming from several directions. Finnegan’s bag was out of his reach, but it wasn’t as important as resisting the arm attempting to take his life. “Do it. Finish it.”

Mei shifted her weight off of her arms. Her smirk was wiped clean off of her face, and her eyes widened, even her mind spun. Had this man no regard for his own life? He was absolutely ready to die, with no hint of resistance. In any of his actions, in any of his words, there wasn’t a grain of regret. A sly smile tugged at the corner of Finn’s mouth.

“You ask for one thing and you don’t get it,” He chuckled, kicking at Mei’s stomach and pushing her off. Coughing, rubbing at his neck, he turned over and attempted to pick himself up from the ground. His sprained ankles and overused joints weren’t as forgiving, pulsating with pain. When he noticed his bag in the distance, he attempted to reach for it, but was stopped with a foot to his wrist.

“Explain yourself, Finnegan?” Mei kneeled, her elbows resting on her knees, looking down sourly at the man below her.

  
  
“What is there to explain?”

“That you don’t seem to have any regard for your life. I’d have loved to see you struggle a little more than you did.”

  
  
“Because I’ve fought my fight,” He answered simply, “I’m getting old.”

  
  
“Mmm, that isn’t an answer to my question.” Mei twisted her ankle around to dig the man’s wrist in more. He hissed at the resulting pain, the asphalt digging into his skin to the point of bloodshed. Whatever adrenaline that he had left had seemingly vanished from his body.

With no sign of giving up, Finnegan continued to endure the pain. Mei huffed, an annoyed hiss coming from her as she stood, grabbed the man by the scruff of his tattered fabrics and held him up in the air. His body was limp.

  
  
“You were my mentor, for fucks sake,” She threw him back on the ground, the man feeling several of his vertebrae get shocked. “I thought you would have a little more love for life,” Her brows knitted together, her voice now a shout, “What about Penny? What about your kids? What about setting an example?”

“They have themselves. It would make no difference if I was there or not. Besides,” The man hissed as he tried to move himself again, “Penny knows I can die anyday on the job. She’s prepared for that day.” 

  
  
Mei’s sharp breath made the man freeze for a split second. She kicked some gravel around, her arms crossed. No thought was passing through her mind, apart from what she could do with the man next. Killing was a feeble attempt at getting that delicious, bittersweet victory. Letting someone suffer longer? Pure molasses. Considering how beat the man was already, there was no point of continuing to deliver successive blows. Any more and he was surely to die soon after.

“And with setting an example - everyone needs to know when to stop,” Finn added through a cough, physically unable to move anymore.

“Shut up.” 

  
  
“Just do it, please,” Finn groaned, agony taking over him from the radiating, throbbing pain in every possible part of his body, “Kill me.”

  
  
The villain turned to look at him once more, that signature, disgusting smirk upon her face once more. 

  
  
“No. Suffer.”


	3. RobbieXReader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soft bc i cannot write about dicks for shit

“Hey, Y/N, how was your day today?” Robbie sat down next to you, haphazardly holding a mug in his hand. The smell of sweat and gunpowder was quite prominent from him, along with a very faint chemical smell.

“It’s been alright,” You reply, scrolling through your phone, noticing a headline about Platinum once more. “How was yours?”

“Oh its been great! Been on a mission with the boys and gals, just hanging out. Busting some villains too, you know, the usual.” He grinned, sipping on his coffee. You cannot help but notice his overly bright demeanor - it felt almost out of place.

You look him up in the eye, trying to discern what could possibly be wrong. Robbie only looks back, one eyebrow cocked upward, followed by a languid shrug. There has to be something.

“Did you break up with Finn again?” You ask, seeing that you’ve successfully made the correct guess. The man in front of you just looked away in shame.

“Maybe… But it’s alright, Y/N, it wasn’t anything serious,” He scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly, “Just a little argument when the mission finished, that’s all. Did I worry you?”

Again, you stay silent for a moment. You can’t tell if he’s being serious or just playing off a mishap. Quickly, you look for any possible bullet holes - there's none. No blood, no bruises. Maybe, after all, he is being truthful? 

“Come on, you really think I’m lying? I know that look on your face.” 

“Oh, you do?” You smirk, your eyebrows lifting, as if inciting a challenge.

“Oh, I do,” He chuckles, “Anyway, let’s go to bed, then? It’s getting late.” 

With a simple nod, you shut your phone off and get up from the chair - Robbie does so at the same time. Your movements are synchronised, but all of a sudden, his hand is around your waist, the other searching for your hand. The room fills with little laughters and giggles as the two of you dance around to hummed tunes that have no rhythm. Nor do your steps. Your eyes are locked onto each other, before you succumb and place your head on his chest. Wow, his heartbeat is fast, and calming, and honestly you might as well fall asleep then and there. Your day at work was exhausting, to say the least.

“Hey, hey, don’t drift off on me.” A gentle pat on your shoulder jolts you from your trance. “You nearly fell asleep there.”

You mumble some incoherent words that just make Robbie laugh.

“Yup, alright, let’s get you to bed.”


	4. "Welcome to Pink Bomb!"

“Welcome to Pink Bomb!~” Deidre welcomed new customers in, going through his usual procedure: Asking if they’ve been here before, handing them the rulesheet if not, and leading them to a booth before kneeling down at the table and talking through the jarringly cute, bright pink menu. 

He was used to the many stares he got, from the starstruck gazes he received as his intoxicating yellow eyes winked at customers, to people curiously gawking at him and the way his thigh highs attached to his garters.

Deidre had always a little flair to him. Out of all the maids that worked at this cafe, he was one of the few that wished for others to see him with a tinge of sexuality. It might have been the reason why he worked the late shift at a maid cafe that stayed open until late. 

Of course - during these later shifts, the normal cafe rules applied, with the addition of another: “Nothing about maids is inherently sexual - but we can make it be that way. The safeword for all customers and maids is ‘Red Bomb’.” The safeword itself wasn’t used that often, as many staff who worked there have had enough experience with people to tell when someone is uncomfortable, and dial it back appropriately. It also wasn’t uncommon for creeps to come in and attempt to break the rules. They all get kicked out in the end.

The night was settling in. The cat-themed clock read just past 9pm, when the bell of the door rang. Deidre’s heels clicked over to the entrance, with bells gently jingling behind him as he approached the entrance.

“Welcome to Pink Bomb! As it is past 8PM, nightly rates apply~ Have you been here before?~” He asked, a sickeningly cute smile plastered on the man's face as he greeted the customers.

“Yes, we have.” The man spoke, his voice deep and gruff - with a delicate, Caithyan accent that drew it all together. Beside him, was a woman who had snakes as hair. Both of them were adorned in tattoos that popped out from their darkened skin.

“Great!~ I’m Kuryuu-kun, by the way~” Deidre smiled, leading the two of them over to a free booth. He identified the couple as Ikhande and Medusa, who ran a tattoo shop together a couple of stores down. As per his usual procedure, he briefed them on the menu while on his knees, and their new selection of drinks available - exclusively available for the spicier shift.

“I’ll have the whiskey. And the pancakes,” Ikhande simply said, looking to his partner, who was still scanning the menu. 

“And I’ll have the strawberry daiquiri with the belgian waffle ice cream,” Medusa grinned, some snakes on her head brandishing their tongues, others only following her movement as they slept.

“Coming right up!~” Deidre winked at them, holding a finger over his mouth as he did so. His quick, confident steps over to the kitchen were again accented by the gentle jingle of bells. 


	5. Bloodbath

“Bruce,” Chief Um’tan began, his hands hidden away in his sleeves, the man hunched over a little.

“Yes, Chief?” The muscular man turned to him, still a little shaken by yesterday’s events, but also extremely excited and happy for his boyfriend. It was like that feeling of euphoria you get when you take your first shot of alcohol at a party.

“Anuk has been looking for a vessel to pass his powers onto, and the previous person… Well… They refused.”

“Sorry Chief, but what has this got to do with me?” Bruce mused, his brows inching together in question.

“You see, ever since you stepped on Caithyan land during the war in 2059, Anuk has taken a… liking to you. He has communicated with many of the Blood Caithyans we have here and all he mentions is you and your skills. If you were coming back, or if something had happened to you, because he restricted himself to just having his presence in Caithya.” The Chief paused, clearing his throat. “Anuk has chosen you to pass his powers onto you. Please, tell me once you decide.” The Chief nodded and began to walk away, Bruce just left a little dumbfounded. He was _chosen_ to be the vessel? Just like Lucius, his own boyfriend?

“Chief!” Bruce called out almost instantly. “Is the ceremony going to be similar to what was with Lucius and Anuri?” The elderly man turned on his heel and looked at the man sitting on the log.

“Similar in essence, but the procedure is different. Are you willing to be blessed by Anuk, gaining his powers, and use them responsibly according to Caithya’s guides?” The man let the question hang in the air for a moment, and it thickened with each second. It took only a minute for Bruce to have made his mind up. If he was already gambling so much of his life, why not do it more? The worst thing that could happen is that he might get disabled, or maybe die. But he’s faced the predicament enough times to face death and laugh in its face.

“Yes.”

“Good. Meet in the main area, the same area Lucius was blessed in, and ask a blood Caithyan for their spare garb.” The Chief nodded, returning to his tent.

After about 20 minutes, Bruce was outfitted in traditional, blood Caithyan clothing. Shirtless, with some cloth and fur hanging from his hips, going down to just above his knee. He also had an anklet that was given to him by the Shaman of Sikkim, which was a cluster of cut up, eggshell white bones, and some longer fish teeth. It was a little weird to him, but Bruce felt an odd sense of comfort wearing it.

He went up to the space where Lucius was blessed just yesterday, and was soon surrounded by countless Caithyans, with the chief splitting the crowd in the middle. All of them had similar clothing to each other - all going into the reds, with fur in places. All of them also had some kind of bone accessory. Um’tan came up to him, with a little bowl of off-white liquid, dipping his finger in and began to paint over Bruce’s body. His shoulders, his arms, even his neck and parts of his face. The white was a staple of Caithyan rituals, but not many people were used to seeing it in this much contrast against such dark skin. Once the Chief was finished with painting, he stepped back, growing a little table from trees next to him, and placing the bowl down. 

“ _Everyone!”_ Um’tan began, Bruce jumping just slightly in surprise, _“We here have Bruce Merowitz, who has accepted Anuk’s offer of becoming the next vessel! As Anuk’s power had grown stronger due to the lack of a suitable, or willing, person to take heir in the last eleven years, Bruce will now free Anuk of this excess!”_

The crowd began to cheer, and after the noise died down a minute after, a rhythmic snapping of fingers and thumping the ground began. Soon, hums began to sound, and with a single, sharp yell, everyone in the crowd had drawn their daggers, held their hand up into the air, and cut their palm. Bruce could see that some of the people there also already had a scar, probably from doing this before. He was a little terrified, but kept a stone face, his hands behind his back, standing completely still. The blood that poured out of the people’s wounds was beginning to drip down their wrists, each person lining up to scrape their blood into the bowl that had paint in it previously. 

Once everyone had given their share the bowl was filled just about halfway. The Chief took the bowl into his hands, instructing Bruce to sit on the low-table that hadn’t been there before. It was also made out of trees, the tree bark having been stripped off. Following the orders, Bruce sat down, and held the bowl of blood, looking at his own reflection.

_"May you drink the blood, and be blessed by Anuk.”_ The Crowd chanted, all of them sitting down on the floor.

“Drink the blood now, Bruce. And lay down once you’re done.” Um’tan said to him, nodding slightly to urge him to continue with the process. He looked into the bowl of blood, seeing his reflection there, and a face he didn’t recognise. It looked dark, almost like a demon, and that froze him a little. As Bruce kept on looking into his reflection, some outer force had lifted his arms up, the bowl tipping right into his mouth, the blood pouring out. A little confused, he swallowed, lay down on the ground, it feeling particularly warm. The white markings that were on his body began to turn to red, radiating outwards from his heart. All the Caithyans that were there put their heads down, and the ceremony had officially began.

Bruce’s body was getting more and more limp, as the crimson red colour had infested the white markings. Once all the markings had turned red, Bruce felt like he was… Falling. Falling from some kind of height, with no floor or ground in sight.

It was black all around him, pitch black, and the man landed into shallow water, face first, getting up with little groans of pain. His body wasn’t as strong as it was during the war. Although, upon further inspection of the ‘water’, it turns out it was blood. His body was totally covered with it, and he tried to swipe it off of himself, the excess falling off of him, the rest being absorbed by his body. His bare feet feeling the blood felt oddly cold, even a little refreshing, if he had to put it the simplest way.

“Um.. Anuk?” Bruce called out, feeling a presence near him. He couldn’t see anyone even with his eyes flitting everywhere, looking for them. Some incoherent words echoed back to him, as if the void was responding, trying to get to him. A connection that he had never felt before, and soon, he felt the cold sensation climbing up to his calves, his thighs, and soon his hips, waist and chest. He looked down, to see the blood climbing up his body from the ground, feeling like he was slowly being dunked into a body of cold water. It stopped when it got to his neck, his arms covered down to the fingertips, more blood dripping off.

Soon, he was struck into the back of the head, knocking him out cold. What he soon realised was that he was in the spiritual plane, but why did he get knocked out? As his face fell into the shallow, endless pool of blood, he reemerged on the ‘other side’, fully conscious, and no longer clad in a semi-thick sheet of liquid blood, with him forming ripples in the pool.

His feet were still planted in the crimson red liquid, but he felt… Upside down. Something felt wrong, and soon the world righted itself, with a figure with a red cape and golden accents in the distance. 

“Welcome to the God’s realm, Bruce.” The figure turned around, revealing a chiseled face, with perfectly white hair which fell into golden shimmers as the light hit it. He also had blood red eyes, the whites popping in contrast to the dark red, almost black clothing he had on. It consisted of a brilliantly red cape, held in place on one side via a thick golden chain, and under it, there were layers of fur, layers of rich red garments, and shoes that looked like they belonged to a nobleman. Of course, this was one of the many reimaginations of Anuk that someone had thought of, and he decided this was going to be the one he was going to present himself as, most likely for the rest of his time. It was his modernised version of himself, and it felt suitable. Something even felt odd about him, like he’s seen him before… The darker version of him.

“Wh-”

“No questions yet, sorry Bruce. I had to knock you into here because your mind isn’t as open as I thought it was…” Anuk hummed, stepping down from the slightly elevated platform into the blood pool, no ripples forming from around him as he walked. “I hope you know enough about me, otherwise you won’t stand a chance against what I am about to put you through.” He almost purred, walking around Bruce’s form. “What pretty patterns. Did the Chief draw these? Anuri was talking about getting their vessel just yesterday… And to get my own so unexpectedly the next day? The God’s realm is shaking.” He laughed, his hand on his chest. “I heard the Chief saying that I had restricted myself to Caithya only… I know you’re wondering why. Your thoughts are as clear as the sky is when Lucius is flying his jet, isn’t it?” The God chuckled, echoing among the expanse.

“How?”

“Oh, normally! The God’s realm is the purest form of unconsciousness. Everything you thought, repressed, forgotten about is available here. Oh, and to answer your dying question, I restricted myself because well, I am far too dangerous. Not like the other God’s, who have the earth in their palm. I play with life in its rawest form.” He paused. “I tried calling out to Finn to get him to be my vessel but… He just refused. And you? Upon just hearing the squeak about getting something other than chemical enhancements, you jump at the opportunity. Much like when you did so when you were in fifth grade, when those army men came over and… Lets see…” Humming, Anuk looked like he was swiping through something, his hand on his chin. Bruce feeling an odd, full feeling in his brain. “When your school was raided, and you had to protect one of your dearest friends at the time… Quite a history you’ve got here.” He snapped his fingers, and a throne room snapped into existence. 

The throne room itself was in very similar colours to Anuk’s choice of garment - Reds, whites and golds, with a little bit of blacks here and there. There was also a huge raven sitting on a post, and it cawed when it saw Bruce, one of it’s eyes being a bright, glowing red. Anuk went over to the golden throne, and sat down in it ever so gracefully, the fur and the cape falling behind him, framing his form. “Your trial begins the moment you step into the bloodbath behind you. I’m not giving you any warnings, just step in if you are willing to.”

Bruce turned around slowly, seeing a fountain. A fountain of blood. It was coming out of a spout in the wall, with laminar flow making it look solid. It was styled as a pool made with clean marble steps leading down. With one last look at Anuk, and his nonchalant expression, he walked towards it, stepping foot into the blood, away from the marble. Step by step, he was covered in more blood, closing his eyes and holding his breath just as he was about to submerge himself fully. 

When Bruce opened his eyes, the tension in the air could be felt, and he heard gunshots. Like never before. They were very old rifles that he didn’t know the name of, and they were being wielded… By Caithyans? He looked around, seeing a man clad in fur, face to face with an Eregonian who was left only with his bayonet. The man grasped the enemy’s wrist, and soon their life began to drain out of their eyes. Bruce had seen this many times before. The last few moments of consciousness before the person fades over to just seeing black. He always wondered what it was like, but never took the steps to try and experience it himself.

_“Hey! What are you doing, not being in the fight?”_ The man that had just killed another just by touching their wrist was talking to him. Oddly, he could understand the man somewhat.

_“Hatsu, who are you talking to?”_ A man with beads in his hair called over, Bruce feeling the spirits of the dead rising from the ground beneath. Confused, Hatsu looked at the man and back at Bruce, furrowing his brows.

_“Sorry, Sitiyok, I thought I was seeing someone.”_

_“You and your visions…”_ Sitiyoks voice faded out when Bruce felt a shooting pain through his abdomen, neck, and shoulder. All he could hear was the constant high-pitched drone in his ears, the gunshots begun to sound silenced, and any yelling and explosions were drowned out. He touched the areas that hurt, and looked at his hand. There were no medics nearby, nor were there any Caithyan Shamans either. As his vision began to fade, Bruce had seemingly accepted his fate, but was met with the delicious concrete dust of a run down building.

He rose from the ground, picking himself up. The pain was gone, and the blood from his hands was too. The garment he wore though, was stained. Shaking off some of the dust, Bruce looked around, until he heard a thick Caithyan accent speaking in English. With the previous experience, he had learned that these people can see him. So his first instinct was to hide, and he did so. There was a very convenient pile of school desks and chairs in the same room as him, so he ran over to that and hid behind it.

“... Replicating the P’kari bun recipe was difficult for him.” The voice became much more apparent and coherent. There was also a woman’s laughter, and dissipated chit-chat from another side of the room.

“Oh, Vic, Veronica still isn’t back.” The woman spoke. She was basically glued to the man. There was a loud huff, and steps that faded out. Bruce gently shuffled, to get himself more comfortable, and he bumped into the leg of the chair, the pile shifting significantly. The man that was there unstuck himself from the woman, and approached the chairs.

“Ikhande, I don’t think its anything. That pile of things has always been unstable.” The snakes atop the woman’s head hissed. She then whispered something that Bruce couldn’t hear.

“There’s someone here. I sense them.” Ikhande spoke, his ‘s’s being sharp, as if he was trying to coax whoever was hiding, out.

“Right, before you strangle someone to death, let me check first.” Click, clack, click clack. The shoes approached, and so did the woman. Bruce was sure that the woman could see him right now. “There’s nothing here babe.” 

“No, there is, Medusa, I know it.” Ikhande went up to the woman, and looked into the pile of furniture. “YOU!” The man bellowed, Bruce squeaking as he tried to find a way out. The chairs and tables went flying out of the way, Bruce on the ground, unable to do anything. He’s seen this man before. He was the one who was on the news a long, long time ago and was assumed missing. “How did you get here?” He yelled.

Bruce couldn’t even get a syllable out of him.

“Answer me, now.” Ikhande demanded. “NOW!” He picked up the man by the neck, Bruce astounded by the man’s strength. “Wait a minute… You’re a spirit. You’re too light for me to pin you to the wall, not with those muscles. Still… How did you get here?!” He yelled once more, Bruce’s life beginning to drain out of his eyes. It felt the same. The same feeling of beginning to feel physically empty, to begin to see black, the constant drone in his ears and the outside world fading away. It felt much smoother this time, much more like a cocoon enveloping the body rather than a strike. The transition between this vision, and the next one, took some time. 

Bruce’s form was suspended in pitch darkness once more, and he could feel himself drifting downwards. If that feeling went away, he saw bright red fluid coming out of his fingertips, leaving a trail in front of him. As if in a loading screen in a game, all Bruce needed to do is to blink. So far, refusing to blink was working, quite well. He felt tired of experiencing death once more, and he knew it was about to happen. However, the more he stopped himself, the more he felt himself spiralling out of control, old memories flooding his mind, some even making him want to scream. Upon deciding to test his limits (and to avoid getting fictionally killed again), he kept his eyes wide open. Thoughts from previous wars and traumatic events began to flood his mind, all of them painted red. His friends, red. His leaders, his trucks, his guns, all red. Even Lucius, in a memory from the war, began to be tainted by the dark red hue. Tears began to stream down the man’s cheeks, and he finally opened his mouth to scream, red fluid rushing out, tears going down his face. Unable to do anything apart from blink his tears away.

A man with long, dark hair was sitting on a pillow in the corner of his tent. He was reading some scripture, it not being bound by leather, just loose leaf paper that was yellowed and rattled with age. On his side, was a small cup of tea that was still steeping, and the man began to put his hair up into a bun with a smooth stick.

“Um… Hello.” Bruce looked at the man, the living daylights leaving the man’s face. “Are you also going to kill me?” He asked, looking askew.

“Okay, who are you, why do you speak English, why are you wearing Caithyan garb and why are you painted in red markings of the Chief?” The man put the papers down, almost spilling his tea, speaking extremely fast.

“Oh um… I’m Bruce and Anuk sent me here.”

“Oh, good, I’m D’qari.” He looked at Bruce, with a slightly keen eye. “Anuk has found a vessel, then, yet again. What year are you from?”

“2066.” 

“Ah, this means Anuk recognised me again!” D’qari squealed under his breath, smiling, eager to get going already. “I do have to kill you to make you pass on through to the next stage, though. But I’ll do it differently. Also, I’m not meant to have blood powers, so don’t tell anyone, please.” Bruce only nodded to the request. “Right, follow me, I assume you’ve been in Sikkim before, because well, why else would the Chief put you through becoming a vessel elsewhere?”

“What year is it?” Bruce asked, feeling almost chained to whoever D’qari was. His happy energy was something that Bruce did not need right now.

“2056, ish. I’ve lost the count because I’ve been focusing on these new scriptures I’ve uncovered.” He emerged out of the tent, looking around before beginning to walk into the forest. Bruce just very quickly followed him. It was three years until the war, and boy, does Sikkim look extremely different to what it is currently. The war reshaped the land, took it through the wringer, and left the earth Caithyans to fix it all. It wasn’t perfection, but he knew that in the midst of war you cannot do much. The looming presence of the Iron Bulls was missing, and everything was thriving. It wasn’t dark, there weren’t constantly plumes of smoke, nor was there the temporary airplane lane somewhere into the forest. That ordeal was a whole nightmare in itself…

“Hello? Bruce?” D’qari snapped his fingers in front of the man’s face. “Great, you’re back. I don’t know where you are at, but assuming your mind is probably buzzing with memories, you’ve not got long to go. So that’s a good thing.” D’qari took out his dagger, and gestured to Bruce to hold his hand out. Before he did so, Bruce narrowed his eyes.

“What language are you speaking right now?”

“Caithyan, why?”

“It sounds English.”

“Well, you’re currently speaking Caithyan to me.” D’qari shrugged, and once more emphasised his gesture. Bruce followed, D’qari giving Bruce a cut across his palm, clean. He then guided his hand to go above his head, and once the first drop of blood hit Bruce’s skull, he was being bathed in red. From the top, to the bottom. The thick red liquid was running down through his hair, down the sides of his head, down to the shoulders. D’qari only looked puzzled. “Could you focus your intent for me? What you intend to do in case you had blood powers?” Bruce did so. There was a lot more of the blood now, and the top of Bruce’s head began to disappear into nothingness. Like he was cotton candy, melting away at the slightest touch of water. Disintegrating. 

Bruce’s thoughts revolved around, well, saving himself, saving others, using the blood powers for a little fun and show to entertain someone (mostly Lucius). The feeling of him dissolving was overridden by these thoughts, these intentions. His breathing also stabilised, and anything that was repeating itself in his head was gone. Filed away.

“Thank you, Bruce. I’ve done this countless times, and you’ve the strongest intentions I’ve seen.” D’qari smiled, soon seeing Bruce’s eyes close. He stayed there until Bruce was completely gone, in a little wet patch of nothing really. He knew it would dry soon. _“Anuk, I cannot thank you enough for choosing me to be a guide for the spirits of the Vessels.”_ D’qari muttered under his breath, soon returning to his tent.

Bruce surfaced from the bloodbath, heaving and gasping for air. The three gunshot wounds were back, with three times the pain than he remembered, he felt a clasp around his neck, and a viciously brutal burning sensation all over his body, radiating outward from the palm of his hand. Anuk was just looking down at the man that had emerged, covered in blood.

“You’ve passed.” Anuk stepped down to Bruce, kneeling down to be on his level. “The trial is to make you realise the fragility of life. The pureness of it, the anger within it, and the beauty in it. Your heart seems set. Unlike it was before… Very much chaotic, unsure… Scared.” Anuk stood up, Bruce just looking up at him while still feeling like he would scream from the pain that was shooting through his body. “Now, get out.”

“Wh-” Bruce just about picked himself up.

“You heard me, the last step is to leave here while still in pain. If the pain goes away and you still aren’t back to your physical form, I’m going to have to make you perish.” Anuk gave a slight shrug, holding arms out wide. “And I cannot help you with that, not like I did with helping you get in here.” He smiled. “I’ll be watching, don’t worry.” Anuk went back to his throne, sitting on the golden armrest. The raven cawed three times, ruffling its wings. Bruce soon began to hover once more, the throne room vanishing from sight. All you could hear was the echo of three words, in Anuk’s voice, but distorted: “Stop doing that!”

His consciousness began to stir itself, the red markings very quickly coming back to white, into his heart. The process was almost instant. In a coughing fit, Bruce woke up, the pain pulsating through him at a much lesser rate. He sputtered blood as he rolled onto his stomach and held himself up with his arms.

_“And he has risen! Anuk has blessed Bruce Merowitz with his godly blood!”_ The Chief announced, the people cheering and whooping. 


	6. Seeing Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert has been acting a bit sketchy in the Whytaker household and rather avoidant. Curious as to what her lover might be up to, Genevieve gathers Josephine and Penny to spy on Robert in hopes of figuring out what he is up to.

Genevieve was in the kitchen of their recently remodeled house out in the country. She had to admit that being a hero in the UK paid a lot better than being in Japan, though it couldn’t possibly beat the beautiful pink cherry blossoms and vibrant festivals that they held every year. Then again, with their growing family and Platinum Federation’s need for more heroes by their main headquarters, the Whytakers didn’t have much of a choice but to move. A sigh escaped the redhead’s lips as she began scrubbing a plate. Behind her, she could hear a gentle mechanical whir and some humming from the eldest child, Spencer.

“Spencer, dear, do you think you could help me wash some of these dishes?” Genevieve asked. Spencer looked up, giving a nod. The boy looked exactly like his father apart from the freckled cheeks and gapped front teeth. His shorts revealed that his left leg was instead replaced by a semi-realistic prosthetic starting at the knee. He wore an old, faded ACDC t-shirt with a red hoodie to match. His unruly brown hair was pulled back until Genevieve could give him a proper haircut. His eyes, green like the grassy plains outside, were framed by turtle-shell print glasses with a heavy prescription. “I promise it won’t take long. The girls were supposed to do them last night, but I guess they forgot.”

“Yeah, no problem, mom.” Spencer walked over and grabbed a nearby dish towel to wash. A few minutes of silence passed between them before Spencer spoke up again. “Hey, mom, quick question: Have you noticed dad acting weird lately?” 

Genevieve pondered on this. When  _ wasn’t _ Robert acting weird? The man’s carefree and generally optimistic and child-like personality made him the oddest of oddballs, but that’s part of why she loved him. However, Spencer was right in thinking that Robert had been acting rather off. He seemed more nervous than normal and quite distant from the family in the past few days. She had no reason to suspect cheating or drinking (unless Robert were able to cover it up well). “Yes, but it’s your father. We all know how he is.”

“No, like, he’s been super shifty lately. Last night he left at like… I don’t know, 11 pm? He didn’t even get back until 6 in the morning. If he goes on missions, he usually tells you, right?” Spencer asked. Gen noticed her son’s worried look and pat his shoulder after pulling the drain from the sink. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Spencer. We’ll keep an eye on him.” She said. Genevieve watched as the man in question walked to the coat rack and grabbed his jacket and keys before walking out of the door with their two daughters quickly running to the window to wave him goodbye. “He didn’t even say goodbye… What is going on with him?”

“See?! I told you! I’m not crazy!” Spencer pointed towards the car that was driving towards the city. The second eldest, Gaynor, walked into the room and peeked outside, tilting their head in confusion as to why the family patriarch left without a word to anyone.

“... Maybe he’s cheating.” Gaynor finally mumbled.

“Gaynor!” Spencer hissed, covering the non-binary child’s mouth. “Shut up! We don’t know that and we don’t want any rumors spreading! I mean, paparazzi here is like vultures. America has it bad, sure, but this place is awful.”

Gaynor shoved their older brother away and took a deep breath before looking into their adoptive mother’s eyes. “Mama, listen. We all love dad and we know him better than anyone out there. We all know this isn’t normal. I’m not saying that he  _ is _ cheating, but I’m saying that someone should investigate as to why he’s acting so shifty. Let’s face the facts: what could he possibly be doing that he can’t talk to  _ you _ about it? You’re his partner in crime! He tells you  _ everything _ .”

“... T-That’s true.” Genevieve didn’t want to admit that, but she knew that her Robbie wouldn’t hide things from her. Not like this. If there were secrets, they’d talk about it and get it all out in the open. It was normally minor stuff like surprise trips or presents, but Robbie wasn’t even talking about it. He acted like nothing was odd… 

It terrified her.

“You’re right. I need to investigate.” Gen looked at the two eldest. “Watch the girls. I’m going into the city and I’m getting the only people I trust with this.”

“Who’s that, mom?” Spencer asked, watching her put on her coat.

\---

“So let me get this straight: Robert Whytaker is keeping a secret from you and you’re worried that he’s cheating? I mean, I don’t want to judge, Genny, but I think you’re jumping to conclusions.” Josephine piped up from the back seat of Penny’s Beetle. Penny was driving in the front with a rather pissed off look on her face. “And Penny, please try not to feed-”

“I can’t believe that asshole! The absolute nerve of that fool!  _ I am going to punch him in his stupid, charming face _ !” Penny hissed in her Caithyan tongue. Genevieve was glad that her friends at least cared enough to come with her. However, seeing Penny’s pissed off face and watching her practically white-knuckle the wheel was worrying to some degree. “Anyways, how will we know where he is?”

“Wally put a tracker in his coat when he first joined Platinum Federation. It’s part of Hermes’ software to find him. It’s like “Find my Phone” except it’s “Find my Robbie”.” Josephine held up her phone and looked down at the tracker. “Hm… Says he’s at the Doubletree on Pepys? Is his family in town?”

“No. Why would he be going to a hotel?” Genevieve asked worriedly. Penny turned the corner and slowed the vehicle as they approached a red light. “Oh God, what if he  _ is _ cheating? What if Gaynor is right? I know we’ve grown distant over the past couple of months, but-”

“Woah, woah, woah! Genevieve, calm down!” Josephine soothed, patting the woman’s shoulder. “Deep breaths. Look, Robbie is handsome as hell and charming beyond belief, but he’s loyal. He’s the human equivalent of a Golden Retriever. That man is head-over-heels in love with you and I know that you two have been a little distant, but I don’t think that’s a sign of bad times. Maybe he’s working through some things. Is today’s date significant for him?”

The three women sat in thought over the clown hero’s past. It wasn’t the day he became sober, it wasn’t his birthday, it wasn’t the day his ex-fiancee died… what could it be? As the light changed to green, Penny began driving towards the hotel, pulling over at the front. “The only problem is that we won’t be able to find him here. He could be in a room, but we won’t be able to go up there.” Penny sighed.

“Then I guess we’re camping out in the lobby.” Genevieve unbuckled her seatbelt and quickly got out, making her way inside with a few people turning their heads to see the three hero wives. “God, I’m so scared… I feel sick! I feel angry, sick, and sad! What is this feeling?!” 

“Disappointment? Jealousy? A number of things, really.” Josephine looked around. “Man, this hotel is really nice too. Do they have banquet halls here?” 

“Who cares?” Penny and Genevieve asked, looking around for any side of the tall American that was here. Penny squinted her eyes and pointed across the way towards Robbie with… another woman. She was blonde with gapped front teeth and skin as white as snow. She seemed to be around Robbie’s age, possibly a little younger, and had her passport in hand. “I knew it!  _ That bastard is dead meat _ !” Penny hissed.

“Now, hold on! We don’t know if this is romantic. It could just be business!” Josephine yelped.

“Business? In a hotel? With no communication to the wife?” Penny gestured to a very broken-looking Genevieve. “... Gen?” She saw the woman’s hands shaking and sighed, hugging her. “I’m sorry, Gen. Josephine is  _ technically _ right, though. We don’t know unless we get closer. Come on, let’s put those spy skills to the test!” Penny excitedly said, putting on her sunglasses and grabbing a baseball cap from her purse. The other two girls followed suit and began inching closer to where Robbie and this mystery woman were.

“... just don’t understand, y’know? Why contact me out of the blue? You said you wanted nothing to do with me after we last saw each other.” The woman said, her southern belle accent peeking through. Robbie nodded, putting his hands in his pockets and giving a sigh.

“I know, I know. I just… I had to see you. I had to talk to you again and I have a few important things that I need to get off of my chest. You’re the only person I could really trust with this stuff, you know? And we need to talk about our kid.” Robbie finally managed to get out, his voice low. 

“Our kid? Gaynor?” The woman asked. Robbie nodded and Gen’s eyes widened. This must have been Eloise… she’d heard stories, but she never thought she’d meet her. Especially not like this. “What about Gaynor?”

“I know you said that you wanted to meet them-”

“Them?”

“Them.” Robert stated. “I know you wanted to meet them, but after all of the shit that your parents put them through, it’s going to be a while before any trust is gained back on your family’s part. Hell, it took them a while for them to trust me. I don’t blame them, of course. Gaynor is a good kid and it sucks what happened to them.”

“I don’t assume that’s the only reason you’re here though.” Eloise crossed her arms and looked Robert up and down. “So… what’s the reason? Why’d you come here to meet me?”

“It’s about my girlfriend, Genevieve. I told you a little bit about her. I love that woman to death and just… she makes me so happy! But-” Robbie paused as he heard a small scraping sound nearby. He turned his head, looking for the source of the sound near the wall. Penny and Josephine were pushing Gen’s head down to make sure that her antlers wouldn’t give her away. Genevieve was sure she’d be caught! Oh God, this was it! … But nothing happened. There was silence for a while before Robert carried on. “But I just don’t see myself being her boyfriend forever.”

“So you want to break up with her? Well, you had no trouble doing it with me. I doubt it’ll be any harder for her.” Eloise chuckled and Robert rolled his eyes. 

“No, no, no! I don’t want to break up with her. I um… Well, I talked about it with her about two months ago. About getting married? You and Isaac got married recently and I just wanted to know how you  _ knew _ you were ready?” Robbie asked, putting his hands in his pockets. “I-I got a ring, I have a plan, but I’m scared. I’m scared that she’ll say “no” or that I’ll mess things up on our date. God, I feel like a kid again and it’s awful.”

Josephine, Genevieve, and Penny all sat in utter shock, looking at each other for confirmation on what they just heard. “... D-Did he say he has a ring?” Genevieve whispered. The other two women nodded and Josephine’s eyes widened more. Her heart was practically beating out of her chest! Oh, all this time he was just nervous about messing things up! 

… Oh, how she wanted to punch him for making her worried.

“Why couldn’t you ask one of your little homeboys to help you?” Eloise asked. “What are their names… Fletcher and Winston?”

“Finn and Wally. I couldn’t ask them because they’d tell their wives and their wives would tell Gen. It’d be a whole ordeal and you know how bad I am at lying on the spot to people I like. You’re married, your life got turned around for the better… how did you know that you weren’t going to fuck things up with Isaac? How did you know that you would be okay?” Gen peeked over the wall and saw how scared Robbie was. His hands were shaking as they came out of his pockets and fidgeted with the fabric of his coat, he looked ghostly pale, and his head was bowed, eyes staring at the floor. She hadn’t seen him that nervous since they first met. 

Eloise rolled her eyes and gently punched Robbie’s arm, getting a small, surprised squeak out of the hero. “Come on, you big baby. Man up! If she’s managed to stick with you this far, take in four kids with you, buy a house with you, and deal with all of your bullshit, then that woman obviously loves you to the moon and back. And the truth is, I don’t know if I’ll mess things up with Isaac, but he pushes me to be the best I can be. Judging from how you talk about her, Genevieve is a real sweet gal that’d bend over backwards for you. No matter what happens in your lives, through kids, through hero duties, or whatever… You two have each other and a pretty great family. Besides, she seems like a great mom to our kid. Better than I ever could be.” Elois smiled and hugged Robbie tightly, feeling him hug her back. “Jesus, you are shaking like a leaf. It’s not the end of the world.”

“But what if I lose her too?!” Robbie groaned.

“The likelihood of that is slim to none. After Wendy and me, I doubt it. Third time’s the charm, ain’t it?” Eloise looked down. “I better put my stuff in my room and meet the folks down in the restaurant. But hey, get me Gaynor’s number so I can talk to him, okay? Love ya, boo.” Eloise grinned and grabbed her suitcase, heading upstairs. 

Meanwhile, Genevieve was sitting near the wall with the most awestruck look on her face. “I feel like such an asshole.” Genevieve mumbled quietly, taking off her sunglasses. Penny shook her head.

“Don’t. You trusted him and you were right to do that. I was poisoning your mind. I apologize.” Penny hugged her friend. “But hey, on the plus side, now Josephine and I can drop subtle hints for him to marry you! Oh, I wonder what the ring is like! I wonder how big the diamond is.” 

“Ah, I could care less. I love  _ Robbie _ . I don’t need a ring or some sheet of paper to tell me that. I mean, I  _ do _ want to marry him, but I could just as easily have a courthouse wedding with the kids and my friends and have dinner out at a restaurant. A small honeymoon to the lake… Yeah, I can see it now.” Genevieve sighed. “It’s funny. For a while, I thought he was cheating on me with Gaynor’s mother. I was practically seeing red.”

\---

Once Genevieve arrived home, it didn’t take long for Robbie to follow after with some Chinese take-out. “Hey, gang! Got us some food. Hey, uh… Gen, can I talk to you outside?” Robbie asked. Gen nodded, grabbing her box and some chopsticks before heading outside and sitting on the porch with him. Robbie made sure to close the door so the kids wouldn’t follow after them before sitting down next to her. “Gen, I want to say that I’m sorry for the past couple of weeks. About me being so… weird?”

“Oh? Weird? I hadn’t noticed.” Gen said sarcastically, grabbing a bit of noodles with her chopsticks before eating them. 

“I know you better than that, Trouble.” Robbie chuckled, eating a piece of orange chicken. Gen scooted closer to the man before resting her head on his shoulder, being careful that her antlers didn’t hurt or scratch him. 

“ _ You’re _ trouble.” She teased. “But how do you feel now? Better?”

“Yeah, a lot better.” Robbie smiled and kissed the top of her head.

“So what was bothering you?” Genevieve inquired.

“Nothing important, hon. Nothing at all.”


	7. Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a vent piece, and not canon. I also didn't really let this dwell enough to edit it, so you could assume this is just a raw? idk.
> 
> had fun with it though. ~Shadow

_ “You have a heart of gold.” _

At least that’s what they used to say. Clad in plates of it, it used to protect what was dearest to the person next to me. It stopped arrows, it stopped the blunt force of a pillar of earth, or an orb of water that was cast my way. It anchored my feet whilst I faced the challenges of air, and stopped my life being drained from me. Now, it’s no less tainted than the land that warriors had died on. It is no longer useful to me, something that I had seen as so good was only a debilitating crutch to me. A heart of gold that was protected by more gold. Pathetic. Destruction will only be imminent the longer I look at the disgrace that it is.

  
_ “Gold doesn’t tarnish.” _

Then, I will make it tarnish. It will become ruined, dissolved to become a measly suspension within water. It will be swallowed by the flames that sear inside of my form, by the sadness that dwells within. It will perish under my own will, using the stabbing sensation of loneliness. I will destroy it until it no longer exists.

After all, flames fueled by fire burn hotter. For longer.

And so, the once ungodly desire to extinguish the little flame had been satiated. At last, a release. Palms that burned brighter, wisps of orange that engulfed me until I was only a ball of white. And all at once, they jumped from me into a ring of fire, eating everything in its path.

The blaze within no longer existed. In its wake, it left its mark - grass that became charred to the ground, houses that no longer stood upright. Tears that couldn’t leave because they burnt the moment they came right out of my face. Skin was left untouched. 

Amongst the flames that still licked and snapped at the air around me, I stood triumphant. I was no longer in control; I wasn’t holding back. Something that I was so terrified of was now left behind me. I had chased it for long enough.

In the distance, I could feel two eyes looking at me. They weren’t angered, nor disappointed. But they did radiate apologies that were long foregone, and long lost memories that could only be assumed as better days. Once the hood was lowered, it revealed two, misty green eyes that seemed to glow from amongst the darkness and the illumination from below.

_ “Deiairi.” _

The call fell flat on deaf ears. A blink, and the illuminations were gone.

Plunged into darkness the moment the final breaths of the fire died out, the sky seemed bland. No soul was around me - I couldn’t feel anything. The stars weren’t present, and so I was left hollowed out. Carved out until nothing remained of me.

I had finally felt something that has made me feel the most alive I’ve ever been. But the cost was too great for me to bear. How am I, someone who has gained everything yet lost everything at the same time, supposed to continue?

  
  



End file.
